Rocket's fur bristles when Strange speaks, too distracted to notice they had company until the man is there with them, his voice a sudden discomfort in the otherwise too-still and too-silent surroundings. He exhales after a moment, and turns just enough to catch Strange with one eye, looking at him and then back out over the land.
He has noticed the sparse surroundings, but Rocket had forcibly chalked it up to the winter weather and the cold, trying to convince himself it had nothing to do with the land or the monstrous skull beneath them now.
"Damn dragons scarin' everything off even now that they're just bones." He picks Lylla up under one arm, the imagery slightly ridiculous given how she's only half his size, and turns to look back at the organizer of this field trip of theirs.
His ears are angled back and his fur is visibly sticking up at odd ends, his body betraying the unease he is trying to conceal.
"They're long dead and they ain't getting back up. Messages or otherwise." He taps his bare foot on the top of the skull and shakes his head. "These bones are as real as ours. No illusions or tricks."
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He has noticed the sparse surroundings, but Rocket had forcibly chalked it up to the winter weather and the cold, trying to convince himself it had nothing to do with the land or the monstrous skull beneath them now.
"Damn dragons scarin' everything off even now that they're just bones." He picks Lylla up under one arm, the imagery slightly ridiculous given how she's only half his size, and turns to look back at the organizer of this field trip of theirs.
His ears are angled back and his fur is visibly sticking up at odd ends, his body betraying the unease he is trying to conceal.
"They're long dead and they ain't getting back up. Messages or otherwise." He taps his bare foot on the top of the skull and shakes his head. "These bones are as real as ours. No illusions or tricks."